Halloween 2021: Choose Your Spooky Outcome: Chapter 11
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There are probably merits to every strategy, pros and cons that could be carefully considered, except your feet are already moving by the time you realize the choice has been made. No matter how many assurances you tell yourself about her abilities, there’s still a potential threat slinking up on someone you care about. And that’s not something you can stand around yelling about.
You spring into a diving tackle at the last minute, flying through the air. In terms of form, it’s not great, but when it comes to raw physicality… it’s even worse. Still, you do have one overwhelming advantage when it comes to confrontations: minimal concern about sustaining damage. That’s how you fly directly into Mr. Scary’s torso, not curling in to protect yourself added the extra bit of reach, sending both of you toppling to the ground.
Before you can sort out your surroundings, hands are yanking you back, off of the prone figure still rolling on the ground.
“What the hell man, just cause Darren is stumbling drunk you take a swing?” Several angry faces with the judgement of high schoolers are suddenly snarling around you. Just when it seems like a fight will break out, another voice speaks.
“Wait, I’m not in the suit, I thought it was Claudia.” A man in a formerly-well kept shirt and tie that now bares grass stains looked around in confusion, noticing a blonde woman shaking her head.
“I’ve been over near the box of wine.”
As realization dawns that no one is actually sure who donned the mascot outfit, the crowd creeps away, even as Mr. Scary begins rising up once more. A firm hand on your shoulder reminds you Victoria was nearby, pulling you away.
Back on it’s feet, Mr. Scary’s grin appears to have taken on a malicious gleam. Tearing fills the air as its body rips open, mounds of stuffing briefly present before expanding, the straw-like skin following. Mr. Scary is growing, and fast. Already it’s past eight feet and only picking up speed.
“I see, so that’s what happened,” Victoria mutters to herself. You whip your head around, expression alone enough to convey the need for more information. “There must have been some sort of Mr. Scary-stuffed-prototype in the time capsule. When they dug up the past and freed the guardian’s spirit, it sought a new form. Evidently all that feeding it’s done tonight allowed for substantial growth.”
That’s certainly one way to phrase it, as Mr. Scary stretches past ten feet, claws and reach expanding right along with it. “You knew it would get that big?”
“Hadn’t the foggiest until the growing started, that’s was the final piece that put things together,” Victoria replies.
“Then why did you pull me back?”
“Because I saw her leave the announcer’s box.” Pointing up the stairs, Victoria motions to Pumpkin dashing toward the field. Under one arm is a bag that was probably once used for transporting audio equipment, clutched carefully tight.
Digging in the bag, Pumpkin produces one of Jim’s bottles, now outfitted with an array of scraped together components. She darts onto the field, pausing only long enough to sling the bag through the air, where it lands safely in Thad’s expert catch.
“Hand out the party favors, make sure Dad gets the grand finale.” Pumpkin spits the words as she races onward, sprinting at Mr. Scary with undeniable joy shining in her eyes.
Drawing near, she turns her momentum into a spin like a discus-thrower, hurling the bottle on a crash course with Mr. Scary’s head, screaming out a taunt along with her attack.
“Somebody call me the Green Goblin, cause it’s time for a Pumpkin Bomb you straw-stuffed sack of shit!”
Her words and throw land at the same time, with the latter being noticeably more effective. Flames cascade along Mr. Scary’s head, now grown so large even the explosion only tore out a chunk. It lets out a horrendous shriek, blaring through the air with the might of a foghorn. Almost everyone covers their ears, Thad being one of the few exceptions as he takes advantage of the distraction to sneak over.
“Everybody grab one,” he instructs, plucking a device near-identical to the one Pumpkin used out of the bag. Victoria’s hand goes in next, but when Jim’s fingers follow you look up in surprise.
“Thought you were going under the bleachers?”
“Forgot a lighter and there was nobody to borrow from,” he admits, eyes looking past you to the giant burning scarecrow head. “But don’t you worry, I’ve got myself an idea.”
“Just make sure it’s dead first,” you suggest, taking the last device for yourself. Unlike the others, it’s got a lot more than just a few electronics slapped on; this thing is bordering on a dystopian sci-fi aesthetic. You can’t be sure exactly what it will do, but every ounce of wisdom you possess whispers to detonate it from a distance.
Another screech fills the air, this one angrier than before, and Pumpkin’s voice follows shortly after. “Any time somebody wants to help distract this thing would be great!”
Despite knowing you’re holding the finale, you still try to start forward, unable to take more than two steps before Thad is already sprinting ahead, hurling his bomb like the football he effortlessly tossed around on the field. It lands in Mr. Scary’s stomach, exploding in a blast of flame and leaving a visible hold in his gut.
Victoria and Jim are moving as well, spreading out as they ready their own bombs. Jim produces a slingshot from within his Partyzilla outfit, that he remembered to pack, while Victoria is just sort of holding her bomb casually out. Both launch at the same time, in a manner of speaking. Jim shoots his, scoring a shoulder hit, but Victoria merely tosses hers into the air.
From the sky, a raven swoops down and plucks up the bomb, flying it over and dropping the device directly onto Mr. Scary’s head, creating a crater in the top of that enormous straw skull.
Between the fire and the wounds, Mr. Scary looks good and softened up, time for you to finish things off. The trouble is, there are still people in the area, and you’re not sure just how much boom the finale is packing. Searching around, you can only see a few places without anyone nearby.
There’s the deserted end zone, since neither team was anywhere near scoring, but that’s a pretty wide-open space. If anything goes flying off, it might fall into the crowd. You could try leading it under the bleachers, Jim just said there wasn’t anyone in there. Although that was several minutes and a giant monster ago, things might have changed. Then again, you could try leading it away from everyone entirely, heading back toward the school. It means hopping over a fence, since heading through the gate would lead Mr. Scary toward the crowd, but if you’re spry enough it could be doable.
Whatever you choose, it should be soon. Mr. Scary is looking pretty mad, and really starting to live up to the name.